Vanishing Souls
by Raurenkili
Summary: A rebellious teenager is visiting her biblically founded grandmother in the hospital when the Rapture happens. One will be ready, the other will not. Will you be left behind?
1. Chapter 1

**_Intro:_** _This is the story of the rapture. Not the zombie apocalypse, not the version where the aliens come and take us off to who-knows-where or kill us all in our sleep. This is the Biblical account of the apocalypse, and if you can't handle the truth you can't read this story._

 _Disclaimer: I do not share the views of the main character._

 ** _Vanishing Souls_**

September **13** , 2015.

I sit by my grandmother's hospital bed in the white-washed room full of flowers that she had been situated in so very long ago. First low blood pressure, then fainting spells; it all led up to one thing or another, this and that critical condition blah blah blah. You know old people; one fall down the stairs and they're in the drink for good. When this is all over, I'm sure the hospital bill will be atrocious. Out of all the crazy things going on in the world right now, this in addition was not at all helpful. At least she's getting better; I guess all these vitamins and stuff they're giving her are worth the money after all. Not that I'm overjoyed, she always was a crazy old lady anyway. Not one of those kind, plump grannies who are baking cookies constantly like you read about, but a quiet, serious elder who is always staying up late reading devotionals and such; A regular old Bible thumper you could say. My name is Britt, and I'm _not_ the nicest person you'll find on your block. My Mom has been worried sick about Gram for however many months she's been in this stinking place, and she's finally starting to make some headway, so I suppose with Mom happier it's not all thumbs down. I, on the other hand am not currently having the greatest time; my homework isn't getting anywhere near done. It's so stifling you can hardly breathe, and all the flowers are setting off my allergies like crazy. I whip out my iPhone quick. Just checking my inbox won't hurt ... oh. There's a text from Logan, the boyfriend I'm not supposed to have. That's why him asking me for a date tonight is a problem. I send a quick answer; _Sorry, doing homework._ This isn't especially true, since I haven't gotten ANY of it done in the hour and a half I've been toiling away here. Yep, nothing's going on here. I carefully gather my workbooks and pencils, stacking notebooks into a precariously balancing pile and putting a pen in-between my teeth, delicately taking my elbow weight off of the bed so as not to wake my sleeping grandmother. I nudge the chair I've been using with my foot so that it scoots across the white tile floor and under the bare desk where it belongs, and start to make my way out of the room when I'm stopped by a frail but resolute voice behind me.

" _Britt?"_

I take my time to turn around and plaster a smile on my face, answering in as sickly sweet a voice as I can manage.

"Yes, Gram?"

To my surprise, she sat up in the hospital bed and landed me with a level gaze which knocked the fake smile right off my face. She must really be on the mend.

"Don't play stupid with me, Britt. I know how you feel about me, about all of this." She motioned with her eyes to the worn Bible on the bedside table. I open my mouth to give her a smug remark but she cuts me off.

"I don't have time for anything you've got to say," She said, her voice surprisingly clear. I stand in the best relaxed pose I can manage with an eyebrow arched, hoping she finishes before my arms give out and my books fall. Her level gaze was as calm and piercing as ever and she spoke one last time, authoritatively. "God has a message for you, Britt, and it won't wait for whatever snarky comment you've got coming. _Sin is like a prison cell with the door wide open. It's comfortable, you can't think of a good reason to leave, until the door slams shut."_

This resonated eerily with me, and I felt that I would never forget it, even if I wanted to, which I do. I again open my mouth to say something smart, like; "But what if I zip-tie the door open?" Or even; "'Zat so?" But I found I couldn't reply how I wanted to. Besides, she laid down after speaking with this weird smile on her face as if satisfied, leaving no opportunity to reply, so I just squeaked out

"Whatever you say, Gram." And made a dash for the door, planning on as quick an escape as possible in case she planned to proclaim any other creepy proverb, but there was a definite feeling that her mission was accomplished. The words " _Out of time"_ pop into my head.

I just make it out of the room when a loud beeping noise sounds from behind. Thinking I've triggered some alarm, I turn towards the sound when suddenly the lights flicker on and off briefly before shutting off entirely. The beeping sound shuts off with the light.

" _Ok, that's weird."_ I say under my breath. A number of things pop into my head simultaneously. The stock markets have been dropping like crazy, maybe they ran out of bills to keep the lights on, but that's stupid. It's strangely dark outside the fourth story window for this time of day. Was that a small tremor I just felt? I get a weird feeling, like I'm being looked at, examined _very_ closely, and then passed over. But before I can think of something rational like the solar lantern Mom always makes me carry in my backpack, the lights flicker back on. And with them comes a steady, loud _beep_ sound from directly in front of me. In a flash I realize my grandmother's heart monitor just flat-lined. My eyes immediately dart to the bed, and it's empty. My hearts skips a beat, and the next few moments seem to happen in slow motion.

 _My fingers let go, and my heavy books fall to the ground with a muffled thud, sliding into a haphazard pile. The white lights seem blinding now, the white tile, the white sheets, everything is white. Except the flowers, which used to be setting off my allergies, but I forget all that now. My breath comes slowly, it's so loud, almost as loud as my heart beating in my ears. Where did she go?_

 _"_ _Gram?"_

 _Silence, my voice echoes in the room like I'm outside myself, hearing the feeble calls that are somehow my own and yet so unfamiliar. The fear in my voice, it shouldn't be there. I'm only fifteen, too young to d-d-ie. Am I dreaming?_

 _"_ _Gram? ….. Gram!"_

 _"_ _Gram, where are you? Come on, this isn't funny anymore."_

 _I whip around, this way and that, scanning the room with frightened eyes, my brown hair flying in my face. My hands are pale and shaking but I make my way toward the bed, slowly, almost zombie-like._

 _I reach out a hand and throw back the covers, looking down with almost unseeing eyes. There's her hospital gown, as flat as if someone just ironed it. There's the IV, the exposed plastic tube dripping slowly into a gathering circle on the sheets. Her finger-clamp which was monitoring her heart is lying there on the bed, empty. This is so impossible. All of it._

Suddenly, I snap out of it. Just as quickly as if I pulled my head out of water, I'm back into the real world, the real me. No more dream-walkers here.

"Ok, so this is creepy."

None of this is supposed to be happening. _Unless_ my granny just took a _really_ fast bathroom break, there's something very wrong here.

Mom had a bad feeling about today, she was uneasy about letting me leave the house. I'm starting to wonder if maybe she had a point there.

My grandmother just disappeared, (kinda funny since it's grandparent's day,) There's not even a silhouette, so no magic rings in use here. Actually, the sheets looked like someone had just made the bed.

Either this is one ninja-fast old lady or something _really_ strange just happened.

I don't waste any time quickly going over and kicking open the bathroom door; the room's empty. Nothing more, nothing less than I'd expected.

As much as part of me wants to spend all day searching uselessly around this one room, by now I can tell there are other things going on behind me in the hospital. Guess I won't be calling this one in at the information desk. By now my Britt-sarcasm sensors have kicked in, and are taking over the situation. Sure, later I'll have a major freak-out, but I don't have time for that right now.

It seems like a few seconds tick past, a few living heartbeats before the entire hospital erupts into frantic chaos. People are screaming, and running to and fro accompanied by nurses in and out of rooms, some rushing down the hallway toward the elevators, which are going to be harder to get to than I had originally anticipated. Multitudes of anxious voices come over the speakers in every corner of the hallway, telling people to converge in the lobby, stay calm, and directing nurses into all sorts of short-staffed places and shouting protocols. My one thought is to get out of here, and home. If there's any one person who can explain this, it's my Mom. She's really into this prophecy stuff. Not that I don't have a feeling what all of this is, I'm just really hoping I'm not right.

A gap opens up in the crowd of hysterical people, and I make run for it. My school-books abandoned and totally forgotten behind me, I make it to the elevator wall and take a deep breath, then start pushing buttons. Really fast. When it comes up, there's a woman looking frantically around, a small article of boys' clothing grasped tightly in her hands. She looks at me with wild, sad eyes and mouths _where's my son?_ Fine then, the stairs it is. I just happen to be all the way on the fourth floor, but an elevator is about the last place I'd want to be if another power outage happens; especially if I'm stuck with a desperate psycho. The stairs are empty, and that makes me feel safer, although I'm afraid I'm going to have to run the block home, God knows my bike is probably stolen. I'm starting to be _really_ glad of those gym classes I took, because four flights of stairs at a full run is very tiring. I finally reach the bottom steps with a burst of speed and stagger to a stop, gripping the railing and breathing hard. I collect myself and glance sharply at my surroundings, assessing everything. I'm in the lobby now, and it looks like I've just beat the crowd that both understood and actually obeyed the nurses over the speakers. I've got an inch, I'll take a mile. I take a deep breath and make another dash across the spacious room. There are still a lot of confused people, but none of them are directly in my way so I take the shot. I'm almost to the doors when a large tremor shakes the ground, bringing my running feet to a skidding, stumbling halt. A few glass windows break, more screams go up and a fake potted plant tumbles over. I stagger backwards, trying to keep my balance as the earth shakes beneath my feet, then almost fall forward on my knees. As soon as I get my footing again I'm running forward, until a massive letter R comes crashing down right in front of me from the "Robert Packer Hospital" sign above. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I live in "middle-of-nowhere-ville" in upstate New York, on a street no-one can pronounce. Small town, block from the hospital, you know, the perks. We don't get many quakes around here, but lately, the New Madrid Fault has been affecting everything. I was born in this hospital, and I have no intention of dying in it. I skirt quickly around the fallen letter, pausing to look skeptically up at the others before finally making it to the doors. The woman at the desk shouts at me not to leave, like I'm going to listen to her? I have no intention of getting stuck under whatever quarantine they're going to enforce here, given that this phenomena is not happening everywhere else, which is something I'm dying to find out. I choose the side door instead of the revolving one and break out into the cool evening air. _Freedom._ I stand still and take a breath, resting a hand on the wide strap of my backpack before opening my eyes and taking in the unbelievable scene before me. Getting home, is gonna be a lot harder than I expected.

 _The End_

dot

dot

dot

 _Of Chapter 1_

 _That is, if you ask for it_

 ** _*gasp*_** _the suspense_

 ** _Outro:_** I started this story quite a while ago, sometime in early 2014, far before the new "Left Behind" movie came out. This came out WAY later than I intended, like, a year late. ACreativeHobbit's rapture story gave me the idea. (Apologies for the random switching of tenses.) I represent here an even earlier conception of pre-trib. (Which I'm pretty sure is only going to be something major happening.) This is my hope, not my adamant opinion, as we cannot know for sure, only prepare. The fact that nothing major was happening prior to the rapture in this story is also not my opinion, so I suppose that it could have been, but wasn't mentioned. As we cannot know exactly what the rapture will be like, I don't mean to mislead anyone. This story will be continued by request only.

 _When everything falls apart, don't get left behind._


	2. Aftershock

_**Aftershock**_

 _Author's note:_ _I honestly wasn't expecting much from this story, but I guess you guys liked it. You're amazing! I got more requests than I thought possible, and I can't in good conscience let this story go unfinished. The wonderful people who reviewed it about two years ago I'm sure have forgotten about it, but I recently got a new review which made me decide to pull together the second chapter._

 _A few minutes earlier_

I burst out of the hospital doors, taking in the breath of wind that greets my face and rustles my hair, telling me I'm _free._

There may be dangers yet to come, but the hospital is no longer one of them. Gathering myself a little, I jog some paces more away from the doors, as if they could suddenly suck me in again.

The leaves of the autumn trees flanking the country parking lot rustle in the wind, and paired with the backdrop of intense grey sky, it gives off an eerie feeling that unsettles me, like even the trees know something isn't right.

The already dull sky is filling with angry, billowing black clouds, creeping swiftly across to shut out the light and lid the sky.

That's when more screaming draws my focus to the road.

If I had been paying attention during my speedy exit from the building, I would have heard the last of the sickening crunches that produced the scene now facing me.

Covering the street before me as far as I can see is a massive traffic accident; but it's no normal pileup. Why does my small town street suddenly look like some freak highway disaster on the news? Most of the cars have smashed into eachother, like they didn't have a way to stop. Some of them are smoking, making the already low visibilty worse, and in the distance a faint flickering whispers of fire ahead. The only vehicles still running look ancient, but with the amount of roadblocks in front of them, they have nowhere to go.

Most surprising of all in the far corner of the hospital parking lot is a downed helicopter, the crash of which must surely have contributed to the quake I felt as I exited the hospital. Its propellar is still spinning, churning up asphault and sparks.

Through the darkness brought on by the gathering clouds, one can make out people getting out of their cars and running, just as frantic as those in the hopsital.

I'm too distracted to think about my bike, but in this situation, it wouldn't help anyway.

By now the wind has gained a cold edge, biting into me so that I wrap my thin jacket tighter around my shoulders. I can't stay here any longer, I need to get home, and the object of my attention is my only path there. With that I set off, my skin tingling with almost a thrill of danger.

Darting across the parking lot and onto the road, I see that some cars have veered off into the sidewalk and that nowhere is there a straight path home.

 _What could've caused this? My road is usually so quiet._

Adjusting my near-empty backpack, I walk a little ways until I reach the car nearest me, which is empty, and start to pick my way from there.

As I move I squint, trying to get a glimpse of the sun, but I can hardly locate the place where, overcome by the clouds, it lurks, giving off only a little light.

Judging by the amount of vehicles piled up here, this accident must have been here for a while. But where are all the firetrucks and ambulances that should be here?

I haven't passed very many cars before I'm stopped by an eerie sight all too familiar.

Easy to see past an open car door is a pair of clothes, flat on the back of the seat with the seatbelt still over them. I shiver, running a hand along my arm as goosebumps form. Guess that answers my question about whether the hospital was the only place this happened, whatever "this" is.

Steeling myself, I move on, but as I weave my way through the mess of cars, only more of the same meets my searching gaze.

Some of the people who haven't run off approach me, or ask me questions, but I pretend not to see them, I pretend not to hear. Not my problem.

Once, I see a set of tiny baby clothes in a backseat. It makes me think of my own new baby sister at home. Suddenly I want to see her. I start to walk faster.

When I reach the intersection, it becomes clear that this is the source of the accident. The cars aren't just in lines here, they're in masses. To get through, I have to climb up over the hoods of some of the cars, careful not to slip.

Standing on one of them at a higher vantage point, the dark distance looks unfamiliar, strange flashing lights and illuminated smoke clouding eachother. I've lived in one spot my entire life, but now it doesn't even look like home. _What is happening to me?_

I hop down, empty backpack swinging to and fro on my shoulders, and up onto the next hood. The line of hills that wall in the valley where I live is almost indiscernable.

Suddenly, before I can get down, the ground starts to shake again, violently. Bits of glass and gravel begin to hop around on the road like falling raindrops.

I put my hands out, stumbling as I try to regain my balance, but the vehicle jolts and throws me forward, down onto the pavement. I roll over once when I hit the ground, and then for a moment, all I can do is lie still. I wince hard and squeeze my right arm, a silent cry of pain leaving my mouth as I roll onto my back and stare at the sky, the tremor metering out into stillness again. I don't wait too long before struggling up to make my way forward again, I can't waste time.

The atmosphere has begun to sink into me like a vapor from my surroundings, and I have this terrible feeling like if I don't get home in time, it'll be too late. But, too late for what?

Finally I'm through the intersection. Through the worst of it, right? I'm more than halfway home now, as I jog forward the cars are starting to thin out.

Through the chaos a sound reaches my ears, finding its' way into my troubled mind over the other sounds. It's a child, screaming for its' parents. I could almost mistake it for my own heart yelling at me, but it's coming from directly ahead.

White smoke, thicker than it has been, trails along the ground over the distance toward me, and a flittering orange light dances at the heart of it, further ahead.

I press on, but entering the enveloping smoke ahead causes me to cough.

It stings when I blink, but before me I can make out a head-on collision between two SUVs. The one nearer me is burning, the source of the strange lights, and both windshields are shattered. Curious, I draw closer.

A small figure stands between me and the crash. As I get nearer, I can see that it's a little, sandy haired boy. He can't be much more than 6 or 7, but I'm terrible with ages.

As I reach him I can hear him murmuring " _where's my mommy?"_ to no-one in particular. He's the first kid I've seen out here, and somehow it feels different. I can't pretend not to notice this time.

He pauses to suck on one of his little hands, which seems to be bleeding.

I've never liked kids before, but something in me feels drawn to him. I don't think he should be standing this close to the accident.

Approaching him, I calmly say "Hey," and then, "where'd you come from?" He points to the burning car. My heart sinks. It's only worse when he tells me he doesn't live near here.

"Mommy dissapeared." He says in a louder voice than before, looking up at me with large, woeful eyes. "Daddy's asleep."

 _What? Who could sleep through a car accident?_ Is the first thing that goes through my mind.

But I don't have time to think about it because he's leading me toward the SUV already.

 _Should we get this close? What am I, the medic? Where are the freaking firetrucks?!_

But it's true, if his father is in there, he can't get left there.

We reach the car, and when I open the door I can see his mother's empty clothes in the driver's seat.

I can't help him find her any more than he can help me, despite the nagging in my mind that tells me I _do_ know where she is, so I turn my attention to his father. He's slumped over on the dash. I climb in over the driver's seat to shake his arm, "Sir, wake up!" No response. I try shaking him harder, but it feels weird. That's when I notice the trickle of blood on the dash, coming from his forehead; except it's not running anymore. My face goes pale. I reach out two shaking fingers and check the pulse on his neck, or at least, the spot where there _should_ be a pulse. I check it again and again, with the same result, not wanting to turn around and face the expectant boy behind me. It hadn't occurred to me that a child wouldn't understand death.

I couldn't avoid it now. It was all real. I had to accept that I was in the middle of a tragedy. What sort I wasn't sure, but a tragedy all the same. It wasn't just missing people now. There were casualties.

Suddenly, a terrible realization strikes me, something that should've occured far earlier. If the fire has been going for this long, it can't be far from the gas tank, and if I've seen any movies, I know what that means.

The flames keep licking nearer, but I don't trust my check for life signs enough to leave the boy's father in there. I soon realize, however, that I'm going to have to. After a few tugs I find my slight build is no match for his dead weight.

I have to back away. One body is better than three after all.

Swallowing my newfound panic, I turn to my new friend and kneel down to his eye level.

"What's your name? Mine's Britt."

He looks down and scuffs the pavement with his shoe before answering "Austin."

"Okay Austin, I need you to listen to me. We have to get out of here. It's not safe anymore. I'll get you out of here. Take my hand."

He holds it out reluctantly and I take it, smiling into his eyes and trying desperately to hide the shattered mess I am inside.

"I'm gonna need you to do something for me, I need you to run as fast as you can over there when I say, okay? Can you do that for me?"

He nods, shyly.

I have no idea how much time we have, it could blow any second, or in five minutes, but I'm not taking any chances.

"Ready...RUN! NOW!"

Together we sprint away from the car, and we're nearly a safe distance away when he changes his mind, breaks away, and starts to run back.

"Austin, **no**!"

Forgetting my own safety, I dash after him. The whole car is in flames now, and he can just see his father's face again when I catch up, grab him by the waist, swing him around and start the other way again. He's screaming now, but I sprint as far I can get us before the car explodes in a blast of fire, throwing us to the pavement.

 _White._ Everything is white. It's all I can see, all that fills my aching lungs, and in place of sound a buzzing pulse beats in my ears, if you could see that, it would probably be white too.

When I collapsed, the little boy fell out of my arms. He's laying on the ground next to me. _Hey, we survived! High five._ I think dazedly. As my hearing starts to return, I can tell that he's quietly sobbing. _Oh,_ my dazed mind thinks sleepily, _he must be crying because his hand hurts._ No wait. It's my hand that hurts. Pushing myself heavily up from the pavement, I raise my palm to my eyes and notice a small chunk of glass sticking out of it. _Nice._ I disinterestedly pull the foreign object out of my hand and the blood trickles down my forearm. As my eyes focus on the bright red, the sudden shot of pain snaps me back to my senses.

I whip my head over my shoulder and look back fearfully. White ash floats down, curling around my auburn ponytail like a messed up snowglobe, but I can still see the mangled remains of the vehicle smouldering in the background. It looks now like someone performed an air-raid on my street. Only the backs of my shoes and the tips of my jeans are cinged, we got lucky. My daze doesn't long keep my fear from returning, so as soon as I feel able I help Austin up.

I'm sick of cars, of trucks, of SUVs, sick of smoke, of roads, and feeling like I don't what the **heck** is going on. Like the lady said, _there's no place like home!_

Taking the boy's hand and reassuring him that everything is okay, we start to run again, never looking back. He doesn't know where he's going, but I do.

Eager to leave my trauma behind me, I run faster, outdistancing him. After continuing at that pace for a while I slow to a jog, finally turning the corner into my own driveway. I'm so out of breath I have to stop and rest for a bit with my hands on my knees. Then I pull my backpack off and start rifling inside. Fortunately, my house keys are one of the few things that survived at the bottom of my backpack. If anyone knows what's going on, it's going to be my Mom. Whether or not I admit it, she's right most of the time.

I pull open the screen door and fumble with the keys. Once the lock clicks, I swing around the doorpost and into the livingroom.

"Mom, I need to ask you somethi- Mom?"

The livingroom is empty. I see a laundry basket on the couch, a book, and a small pile of folded clothes, but no mother. That's odd. She never leaves a job unfinished.

I have so much to tell her, she doesn't know that Gram dissapeared, let alone that I brought a _kid_ home.

I can see into the kitchen, so I know she isn't getting something out of the fridge, or cooking. At the thought of food my stomach growls, and I realize I've been hungry most of the day.

I pop into the bathroom, but turn up nothing.

"Mom!" I call, my voice filling up our small house. If I know her, she's probably out on the street helping as many people as she can find. I huff. _I'm_ the one that needs her right now.

I jog over and check my bedroom, sometimes when I'm home really late from school (thank Logan for that) I'll find her praying at my bedside. Calling her a few more times, I run through the kitchen and into the den, but I can't find her anywhere. I even look into the backyard, but she's not putting up more laundry on the line or anything.

I try to turn on the TV, but it only gives me a half-hearted sizzling sound. I see Mom's phone on the end-table. Surely she would have taken that with her if she went out. That, also, refuses to turn on.

That's when I notice the clothes, and scream.

I didn't see them before because of the laundry, but now the oufit my mother saw me to school in this morning is clear to my eyes in the middle of the couch.

No. This is not happening. It can't happen. This is _my_ house, and _my_ mother! This kind of thing doesn't happen to _me!_ All the tornadoes and hurricanes I see on the news, none of those have ever come here, so why has this?!

Moving to the couch, my legs slightly wobbly from falling repeatedly, I just stare, like if I don't touch the clothes she'll come back somehow.

I put a hand to my mouth when I look past them. In the baby rocker is a tiny, empty, pink onesie. Tay is gone. My heart starts to beat so hard in my chest that it hurts. How can someone I only knew for two years, someone who couldn't even _talk,_ make me feel this much pain?

I-I need to lay down, I stumble into my parent's bedroom but stop cold again. On their bed is a suit, neatly pressed and laying on one side of it. My mind starts reeling and I feel a little faint. Am I alone in the world now?

"Hello!? ANYONE? Someone help me please!" I scream at the whole house. Maybe they didn't come since I only called Mom. Maybe it's a prank.

 _ **Is this your idea of a JOKE, God?**_ I think, **Well, you can bring them back! This isn't funny!**

Wow. Never talked to him before. Come to think of it, he does seem like the type of person to do this. I already thought he stole my Mom. Now he really did. I shake my fist at the ceiling, but I can't hold it up for long. I feel so weird, like I'm melting inside. My eyes half-close.

A thought crosses my mind and I head for the front window to see if Austin has made it here yet, but I'm halfway across the livingroom when my legs buckle and I collapse to the carpet.

I don't move, I just lie there, staring at the ceiling with wide, glazed eyes.

Then suddenly all my muscles tense and I start to rock myself back and forth in a ball on the floor. I begin to laugh hysterically. This is a dream, right? A wacked up, twisted dream that won't be able to touch me once I wake up.

 _ **Wake. Up!**_ I scream at myself, pounding the carpet. My muscles give up again, shoulders shaking as I start to cry.

I don't hear Austin quietly enter and stand in the corner, so I'm startled out of my reverie when he suddenly pipes up from the window where he's peeping through the lace curtains."Someone's coming!"

Looking up at him through bright, tear-colored eyes, I sniff and pull a part of myself together.

Seeing an opportunity to distract myself, I get up, and without bothering to ask what they look like or looking for myself, I run to stand behind the door. A metal baseball bat is propped up against the wall and I grab it and wait. Anyone coming in here with less than pleasant intentions is going to get whacked out of their brain. I know what kind of people try to be thieves when others are vulnerable. I keep waiting, bat poised; heart racing for the millionth time today.

As the door creaks open I step around and swing, but a strong hand catches the end of the bat before it hits its mark, and a masculine voice says: "Now just what were you planning to do with that?" I stop struggling to free the bat and an expression of happy shock dawns on my face. I drop the bat, collapsing into the stranger's arms.

"Dad!"

I don't know whether to laugh or cry right now but I think I start to do both as I hug him tightly.

I pause and look up. "You're alive! B-but...your clothes, you were gone too."

He laughed. "I had those laid out for the meeting today."

I said nothing, only let out a relieved laugh and leant into his embrace more.

He continued. "I got home from work early to go to the meeting, but I couldn't find any of you. I tried to call but all the phones were dead. When all the cars shorted out I went looking for you, I just got back."

"M-Mom and the baby are gone," I say, sobbing into his chest.

"I know, honey," He soothed, stoking her red hair lovingly. "But at least we have each-other."

He's being strong for me, unfathomably so. Like I was for Austin.

"Your mother was right." He says.

"What?"

"Look, over here." He takes me over to the couch where before I had seen an open book. It's Mom's Bible.

It's bookmarked in Luke, and the highlighted verse says: **"I tell you, on that night two people will be in one bed; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding grain together; one will be taken and the other left."**

I stand there and let that sink in. There's my answer, sitting there in front of me like an instruction manual.

"I found the emergency radio downstairs." Dad continued, "It's happening worldwide. All the babies have been taken. They're saying it's a global EMP."

I take a deep breath. "They were all right."

"Yes, they were all right."

"Dad, I'm tired of being wrong."

And right there, in their empty house, a new friend beside them, burning cars outside and a world of fear to face, they asked Jesus into their hearts; One greater than the world. And they knew they wouldn't be alone anymore.

Two people against the world. But One stood behind them now that had never been there before, and that had to give them hope. They knew they would see their family again, maybe sooner than they thought.

"Dad."

"Yes?"

"So I found this kid..."

"What?"

"Hey, you always said you wanted a son, remember?"

 _ **The End**_

 _Last Author's note: So I know this feels like the beginning of a story and not the end, but if you want the whole thing I guess you can just go watch Left Behind, XD. If I said I was going to make even a chapter 3, I'd be lying to myself. I barely forced myself to write this one. I never intended it to be longer anyway. So, hope you enjoyed, and toodle-oo! :P_


End file.
